


The Raphael

by Treon



Category: White Collar
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen, Missing Scene, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 11:05:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5705320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treon/pseuds/Treon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-series, Kate comes to Ellen to pick up the Raphael.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Raphael

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sheenianni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheenianni/gifts).



> Written for sheenianni's prompt at the collarcorner  
> http://collarcorner.livejournal.com/37691.html?thread=1233467#t1233467

It was late afternoon when Ellen came back home from a grocery run.  She put the stuffed paper bag on the kitchen counter and started taking out bread and milk and cans of instant soup.  
  
When the intercom buzzed, she at first decidedly ignored it.  But the person on the other end was quite insistent, and after a few more buzzes, Ellen gave up.  
  
Wiping her hands on a towel, she moved to the door and pressed the microphone button.  "Yes?"  
  
She did not hide her irritation.  
  
A woman's voice came on.  "Delivery service."  
  
"I'm not expecting a package."  
  
"I'm here to pick up one." And before Ellen could protest that she hadn't called for a pickup either, the other woman continued, "It's for Neal Caffrey."  
  
Ellen hesitated for a second, but then pressed the button to unlock the building's front door.  
  
She was waiting by the open door when, a minute later, a young woman stepped off the elevator.  She was dressed in a tan and gray delivery uniform, her black hair gathered in a ponytail under a baseball cap professing a company logo.  Ellen didn't recognize the name and assumed it was fake.  
  
For a long moment the two women stared at each other.  Finally Kate took off her cap.  "Neal sent me to get a package from you."  
  
Ellen stood aside to let her in.  
  
Once inside, Kate glanced around the apartment, taking in the view and the patio garden.  "He said I could trust you."  
  
"He didn't tell me anything about you," Ellen replied dryly.  The girl had not offered her name, and Ellen didn't want to ask.  Plausible deniability for both sides.  She looked at her groceries still sitting on the counter and sighed.  "Come, have a seat."  
  
While Ellen boiled water for tea, Kate walked about the room, examining the pictures on the wall.  
  
Ellen observed the younger woman silently.  A few months ago Neal had sent her a package.  Ellen didn't need her detective badge to figure out what it contained.  Neal had become a celebrated art thief the past few years, the package was light and there weren't many items one would keep in a cylinder.  He had probably feared the police were closing in on him and had wanted to get rid of some of his loot.  Indeed, by the time it was delivered to her doorstep, Neal's arrest was already headlining the evening news.  
  
As a retired lawman, she should have turned it in to the police.  But instead, she had tucked it away, waiting for the day when Neal would be free and could come and claim it.  
  
And now, this girl had come in his stead, claiming that Neal had sent her.  
  
The kettle boiled and she took it off the fire and prepared them both a cup of tea.  
  
Kate sat down when Ellen approached with the tea offering.  
  
The older woman dropped a couple of coasters on the low table, passed Kate a cup and motioned to the sugar bowl. "How do you know Neal?"  
  
Kate fingered the steaming cup in her hand, unsure where to begin.  The man who had conned her?  The man who had taught her how to run cons?  The man whom she had helped put in jail?  "We were going to get married."  
  
Ellen barely grunted. "I see."  
  
Kate could see she was losing the older woman, and she wondered how many girls had swooned to Neal's promises.  "He sent me a letter from jail, telling me to come here and pick up a package."  
  
"And he didn't say what it was?"  
  
Kate shook her head.  She realized she'd have to bring out the heavy guns.  "He told me you were like a mother to him."  
  
Ellen froze, the teacup halfway to her lips.  "Did he?"  
  
"He told me about how he ran away from home.  That the only thing he regretted was hurting you like that."  
  
Ellen put down her cup on the coaster.  She knew Neal had to really trust somebody before he'd reveal the details of his life.  It had been impossible to get a straight answer out of him even back in St. Louis.  But she also knew that even if Neal had confided in this girl, who knew how many years ago, that still didn't mean that she wasn't abusing his trust now.  
  
Though this girl reminded Ellen of Neal, with her blue, earnest eyes, she did not look like a con.  Ellen knew that she would just have to trust her instincts.  She just hoped she wasn't letting herself in for a disappointment.  
  
"Wait here."  
  
She retreated to the back room, and soon returned with the package in hand.  
  
Kate had meanwhile stood up to accept the cylinder that Ellen handed her.  "Thank you."  She turned to leave, but then hesitated.  
  
"Is there a problem?" Ellen asked.  
  
"I think..." Kate looked down at the package.  She knew exactly what was in there.  "Their" painting.  Raphael's Saint George and the Dragon.  Neal had stolen it in order to get her attention, get her to come back to him.  But he didn't need to buy her love anymore.  He never did.  
  
"Keep it," she said, handing it back to Ellen. "Neal will pick it up, when he's out."  
  
"You're sure?"  
  
"Yes. Keep it."  
  
Ellen took back Neal's package, and smiled.  Her instincts were rarely wrong.  "How about some more tea?"


End file.
